


The Off Day

by Rivulet027



Category: Dead Like Me
Genre: Day Off, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/pseuds/Rivulet027
Summary: George gets a day off. She stresses to Roxy about this.





	The Off Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [facethestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/facethestrange/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Dead Like Me.

George doesn’t get a post-it. It should be a relief. A day off from death. She doesn’t have to worry about her clothes or what horrifying thing she’ll see that might haunt her later in the day. Her mind should be swimming with the possibilities of how she can spend her head, instead the hours seem to spread out before her and dread settles in the pit of her stomach. Maybe if it was a work day she wouldn’t feel so tragic, at least there would be some routine to her day, but no it’s the weekend and she has no post-it.

“What am I supposed to do?” she complains to Roxy. “If I spend time with Daisy she’ll make me run lines. No one wants to run lines. If I spend time with Mason he’ll just…”

George pauses with a frown.

“Be high the whole time,” Roxy fills in. “What are you complaining to me for? Get a hobby.”

“Can’t I spend the day with you?” George asks, not whining. She is not whining.

“I’m just going to put you to work.”

“I know,” George sighs.

“Go spend time at the mall,” Roxy suggests.

“So I can look at things I can’t afford?”

“Go see a movie?”

“That’s maybe two hours of my day,” George grumbles.

“So go see two movies.”

“Who can afford that? I might as well just go to the mall.”

“George,” Roxy says in that voice that is full of warning. George sighs. Roxy glares. Roxy stops on the sidewalk and turns to regard George. “Are you worried that if you have a day off you’ll go visit your sister and leave cryptic shit around that will just delay her grieving process?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” George complains wrinkling her nose.

“Thought so,” Roxy calls.

“Delay her grieving process?” George prods when they resume walking again.

“Probably delaying your own as well,” Roxy points out.

George pauses. She considers lying. Things could be worse. 

“No,” Roxy tells her.

“What?”

“I see what you’re doing with that face. We all grieve our lives. You’re not done yet. If you were done you wouldn’t be following me around like a little lost puppy dog because you didn’t get an assignment. You wouldn’t be worried that you’d skirt the edge of the rules again and go visit your family to mope about the life you don’t have any longer.”

“It wasn’t like I was doing anything with it,” George grumbles.

“So do something with your undead life!”

George crosses her arms.

“Little harsh?” Roxy relents.

“Little bit,” George agrees. “I am doing something. I have a job. I have coworkers I spend time with outside of work. I even joined the bowling team. I have things! I just don’t have any today things.”

Roxy’s lips curl upwards, just slightly, not a full smile, but something in her face shifts. George’s eyes narrow.

“What else?” Roxy pushes.

“I have a pet. I…technically I have two jobs,” George continues.

Roxy tugs on her sleeve.

“I care about what I wear now?” George tries.

Roxy makes a considering noise. “Go on.”

“Is this some weird self-affirmation bullshit?”

Roxy raises her eyebrows. “Someone isn’t scare of me anymore.”

“You’re only that harsh with people you actually care about. If you didn’t like me you’d be indifferent.”

“Well, look at you,” Roxy praises.

George doesn’t preen. She almost preens, but she manages to hold it in. She sighs, “No really, is this some self-affirmation bullshit?”

“Who says its bullshit? Do you feel better?”

George opens her mouth to protest, then closes it when she realizes Roxy is serious. She frowns as she gives the question weight and considers. “Yeah. I do. Does this mean I’ve grown as a person?”

“Sounds horrible,” Roxy deadpans.

George grins. Then she realizes where they’ve walked to. “The mall, really?”

“There’s one of those pop up carnivals. I want cotton candy. You can go ride a death trap.”

“I don’t want to ride a death trap,” George says, imitating Roxy’s deadpan as best she can.

"It’s sounds better when you do your own version of it,” Roxy critiques.

George nods her agreement as she realizes she can hear the sounds of the carnival. She tilts her head. “I guess they really wouldn’t be deathtraps anymore.”

“My post-it says otherwise.”

George groans. “We are getting cotton candy first.”

“We deserve cotton candy,” Roxy agrees. “And we’ve got two hours to enjoy this before it gets shut down. I’ll even let you leave before the inevitable.”

They’re finally in sight of the carnival and they stop to take in the rides whirling around in the mall parking lot. There are also several booths offering games and prizes, and a few offering food. 

“How do you think it’s going to happen?” George asks.

“Pop up carnival,” Roxy tells her.

“You’re hoping for something gruesome.”

“Interesting,” Roxy counters.

“Is it just one name or more than one?”

Roxy turns to regard her. 

“What?” George frowns.

“That changed too.”

George considers the question she just asked and then remembers how she first felt when she started out as a grim reaper. She wrinkles her nose. “Does this mean I’m maturing?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m just more professional,” George stalls. Maybe she is more comfortable in her own skin? Does this mean she’s leaving her old life behind? Why does leaving her old life behind still bother her?

“George,” Roxy gets her attention with a warning tone.

“Two hours,” George agrees.

“Cotton candy first,” Roxy reminds.

In the end they spend two hours at the carnival. They try all the food booths. They try one of the rides. They both decide that whirling motion of it is not for them, but Mason might enjoy it. George wins a goldfish. Roxy’s post-it is for someone that chokes. 

“Movie?” Roxy suggests.

“I’m gonna head to the library. Figure out what to do with my goldfish. Somehow I think a fishbowl is probably not right,” George decides.

“You’re probably right about that,” Roxy agrees. As George turns to go Roxy tells her. “Two pets.”

George smiles. The goldfish is probably not going to live long, but at least there isn’t a cat around and she’s going to try her best.


End file.
